Foxface's Story
by GuardGuru13
Summary: Everyone remembers Foxface, the sly and mysterious girl who captured Katniss's attention during the first Hunger Games. But who was she really? What was her real name? What was her background? A story about love, loss, and this district 5 girl's journey through the Games. (Edited from original story for unwanted similarities to Katniss's story)
1. The Fox's Den

I crouch down behind a small outcrop of rocks that lie between me and my prey and tie my fiery red hair into a messy bun to keep it out of my face. That's one disadvantage of having long hair; it always gets in the way. I would have chopped it all off by now if my younger siblings didn't insist on me keeping it. They swear that it makes me look just like mother. So I keep it long, only to satisfy them.

I peek through a crack in the rocks and watch my target as it sniffs a piece of grass. Its sensitive ears swivel in every direction, listening for danger. I shift my weight silently and crouch lower, ready to pounce.

Pushing up with all the force of my calve muscles, I jump the outcrop, landing with a hand on the mouse's tail. As I stand, I bring its body up to my eye level and it squirms and squeaks.

"Poor thing. You've picked the wrong time of day to be scurrying about."

I cradle the mouse between my hands, careful to hold tight so that it won't escape. Its tiny nose pokes out between my fingers and it nibbles slightly at my knuckles as I start back home. I've been chasing mice across this field for about a year now, ever since my older brother, Jared, turned nineteen and went to work for the power plants in our district. The buildings are always looking for mice to run on the wheels that generate most of our electricity, and since Jared is always working he never has time to go mice trapping. I took the job up myself, not only to help out but to have some time alone every once and awhile. I do my best thinking when I'm alone.

I pick my way across the field behind one of our four main power and electricity plants, the afternoon wind blowing wisps of escaped hair into my face. It's the shortest way home, though probably not the safest. There are quite a few power lines that have snapped in half and dangle from their poles, their dangerous wires exposed and hanging. A few others stretch long enough to lie on the ground, hidden in the tall grass, ready to strike anyone who comes to close. One jolt from those lines and I would be dead.

I've come close to touching one before. I had been chasing another mouse across this field and, misjudging my leap, landed short of the creature as it scurried away. I had looked down in frustration when I saw it. Only a foot or so away from my hand was a big, thick power line, with wires so dangerously exposed that they fluttered in the wind and sparked slightly.

So close to death. I still shudder at the thought of being electrocuted.

I finish my trek through the field and walk across a set of train tracks. These are the tracks that carry Capitol trains through our district. My heart skips a beat when I realize that tomorrow these rails will be carrying tributes for the 74th Annual Hunger Games to the capitol.

No one in my family has ever been picked for the games, not even Jared, who just last year had his name in the glass ball forty-seven times. He signed up for the tesserae every year, even though we could probably get by without it. He wouldn't let me sign up for the extra food in years before, but with him being ineligible this year I have to take matters into my own hands. I signed up for it yesterday. In this year's reaping, my name will be entered fourteen times.

A sudden touch on my back snaps me out of my thoughts and I whip around, dropping the mouse and crouching low to the ground, ready to face my unseen foe. I blush in embarrassment when I realize who it is.

Charlee, a boy from my district, is crouched in front of me with a smirk, almost as if he had known my reaction beforehand. He reaches a hand forward and touches my face, then pulls me in for a quick kiss.

"Sorry for scaring you, love," he whispers against my lips, a smile still on his face.

I pull away, furrowing my brow and trying to look mad. "You scared me to death Charlee! And you made me drop that stupid mouse!" I look around for the rat, scanning the grass for any movement.

Charlee raises his hand and reveals the mouse, wriggling around and trying to escape. "Stupid creature ran straight into my hands." His smile widens. He enjoys seeing me mad.

I go to snatch the mouse away but he pulls it just out of my reach. "Nuh, uh, Abby. You aren't getting this mouse back until I get another kiss."

"Wanna bet?" I ask, and before he has time to move I pounce, pinning him on the ground and grabbing the mouse from his hand. My legs straddle his chest with my knees pinning his arms down, and now I'm the one smirking.

A laugh escapes his mouth and he reaches up, pulling my hair out of its bun to fly freely in the wind. "This is why I love you."

I lean down and kiss him fervently, letting my lips linger on his for several minutes, then stand and pull him to his feet as well.

Charlee and I have been inseparable ever since we turned twelve and met at our first reaping. It hasn't always been a romantic relationship though; our love started out as pure friendship and only bloomed into something more two years ago. I still remember the first time we kissed, under a grove of trees hidden from the sight of my older brothers. It had been sweet and innocent, more of a quick peck than a real kiss. But in that one second we both knew we were in love.

"Where are you headed?" Charlee asks, wrapping his strong arms around my waste and burying his head in the crook of my neck. I love these short, blissful moments we get to have, even though they are few and far between. With the duties we each have to our families and district, as well as my older brothers keeping a close eye on me, we hardly have time to be together.

"Back home," I answer. "I have to bring back this rat for Jared and then fix dinner. After all, it may be the last meal we have before one of us gets picked in the reaping." I smile at my joke, but when I look up into Charlee's face his eyes are hard.

"Don't say that, Abigail." He uses my full name when he's being serious. "That's not something to be joking about. If you got picked tomorrow… I'd be devastated."

I look lovingly into his eyes a plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'm sorry, Charlee. I didn't mean it, really." I stare into his eyes for a moment longer, trying to comfort him, and then shrug from his embrace. "I've got to go."

He nods and takes my hand, holding me there for a moment longer. "I'll see you later."

I nod and he lets me go, then turns and walks off toward his own home. I do the same.

I arrive home with the mouse and see Lucy, my twelve year old sister, standing in the window. As soon as she sees me she bolts out the door, gently grabbing the mouse from my hand.

"Not another one!" she exclaims, petting the mouse's head with her small finger. "Doesn't the factory have enough mice Abby? Can we please let him go?"

I smile and tousle her short hair, which is currently in pigtails. "I'm sorry, Lucy, but we can't. You know if Jared doesn't bring these mice to work he could get in trouble."

"I know," she sighs, looking at the mouse with sympathy in her eyes. She hands the creature back to me reluctantly. I giggle, kissing her forehead and leading her inside.

I put the mouse into a small wire cage on the windowsill that already contains a few more mice then walk into our small kitchen and wash my hands in our dingy faucet, happy that the water is currently working. I can only hope that it's working tomorrow; no one goes to a reaping without being "squeaky clean" for the Capitol.

"Where are Garret, Bonnie, and Trishtan?" I ask, looking around.

Lucy reaches in the icebox for a small piece of cheese and sticks it into the mice cage. "Garret just left to find you, and Trishtan and Bonnie are outside playing." She rolls her eyes and I half-smile. Now that she is twelve, Lucy likes to pretend she's more mature. For her sake, I wish she wouldn't throw away her childhood so easily. Growing up is not fun in the districts. I cringe when I think about tomorrow. It will be her first reaping. Though the chances of her being picked are slim to none, I know she will be scared. If she isn't already.

"Oh, okay, thanks Lucy." I walk back outside to go find Garret.

My younger siblings depend on me quite a lot. Bonnie, the youngest of seven, is just five years old. Trishtan, my youngest brother, is only seven. Lucy is twelve, of course, and Garret is three years younger than me, being fourteen.

My two older brothers are Jared and Keneth. Jared is the younger of the two of them, with Keneth being twenty eight, though his age is vague. He stopped celebrating his Birthday when mom got sick. Not that Birthdays are a reason to celebrate anyway. Usually they only mean another slip in the reaping ball. She's been dead for five years now, and Keneth hasn't aged since.

The two eldest work in one of the power plants. Since both of my mom and dad have passed, they have become like parents to us younger children. However, when they are away I become primary caregiver.

I don't have to walk far before I find Garret, talking to some of the other district boys. They're busy boasting and arguing about which of them would most likely win the Hunger Games. I roll my eyes. Garret is the cockiest person I've ever known. If he wasn't my brother, I could believe that he was from one of the Career Districts. He's always bragging about wanting to volunteer for the games, and how easily he could win. It sickens me to think he would actually enjoy killing other people.

"Garret," I say, crossing my arms.

He turns and sees me, a sheepish look crossing his face. He knows I hate hearing him talk about the games. "Oh, hey Abby."

I glance around at his friends with a hard glare. "You should come back. Jared and Keneth will be home soon."

Garret sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, you go on ahead, I'll catch up." He turns back to his friends and I imagine him rolling his eyes. I sigh and head back toward the house.

He catches up with me as I pull open our front door. I give him an irate glance and walk inside.

We wash our hands in the dwindling faucet water and get to work making dinner. The duty falls upon us because we're the oldest of the "children" and do not yet have to work in the power plants. I grab a potato that Lucy found earlier in the garden and wash it, then start skinning it with my pocketknife.

Keneth and Jared walk in half way through our dinner preparations. They smell of sweat and machinery, a stench that comes with working all day in the hot factories.

"How much longer 'til dinner is ready?" Jared asks, walking over and ruffling my hair. I grin and glance up at him. He's smiling from ear to ear, an expression that hardly ever leaves his face.

"About half an hour longer. Be patient Jared," Garret answers. He doesn't turn away from the apple he's slicing.

"That gives you and Keneth time to wash up. Honestly, you smell awful," I tease, smiling back at him.

Keneth raises his hands in submission and laughs. "Alright, alright, we'll wash up. But first," he walks over to me, and before I can move out of the way my face is in his armpit. I cough and sputter and pull away.

"Keneth! Gross!" I can't help smiling at the joke. I push him and Jared toward the door. "Now, wash up."

They laugh as they walk out the door, Jared grabbing the apple from Garret's hand as they leave.

"Hey!" Garret protests and I put a hand on his shoulder and shake my head, still smiling. We continue with our task and have dinner on the table within the hour.

Jared and Keneth walk back inside right as we finish setting the last plate on the table. Jared is carrying Trishtan on his shoulders, while Keneth is swinging Bonnie in his arms as she giggles. Lucy walks in behind them, a happy grin on her face. I'm glad to see she decided to go outside and play with Trishtan and Bonnie. Tomorrow will be a tough day for her, and embracing her childhood will help calm her.

After supper everyone decides to get into bed early, as the District five reapings begin at ten and it's smart to be well rested on reaping day. That is, everyone except for me. After tucking in the younger kids and telling Garret, Jared, and Keneth goodnight, I head off to my room where I don't exactly plan on sleeping. I open the window above my small makeshift bed and stare out at the setting sun, casting shadows on everything and keeping the moon company in the sky for a few minutes. It disappears finally and leaves the district in a milky glow of moonlight. It's then that a figure appears at my window.

"Charlee," I whisper, a smile on my face. He kisses me through the open window and then climbs over the sill and comes inside. I scoot over to make room for him on the bed.

This isn't the first time we've had a sleepover. We've made a habit of spending the night together before every reaping, just in case something was to happen to one of us. It isn't the easiest thing to do, with my older brothers and Garret being so protective of me, but we find ways to make it work.

Charlee lies down beside me and props his head up on his hand, staring into my eyes. He pushes a strand of hair out of my face and then kisses me again, this time more urgently than the first. We stay like this long into the night, talking, kissing, and spending each hour as if it was our last together. Finally we both fall asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

I wake to Charlee shaking me, and I immediately know we've slept in late. I jump up and he points out the window. Crowds of kids are walking down the street toward the square. Without a word we kiss goodbye and he jumps out the window in one bound, headed back to his house to get ready.

I quickly walk to the other room and wake up Lucy. She starts when I pull her up and shakes her head, blinking her gray eyes. I'm about to wake up the others when Jared walks in behind me. He nods for us to go get ready, and I leave him there.

We dress in a hurry. Lucy puts on a flowery yellow sundress that belonged to mother when she was younger. It hangs off her shoulders slightly, but otherwise fits well. I pull on a dark green, long dress that matches my eyes, and then start to work on Lucy's hair. I work quickly but carefully, pulling each strand back and tying her hair in a perfectly rounded bun. I do the same to mine, and then we rush out the door.

Garret is already there, wearing a white button-down shirt and his nicest pair of pants. We join the crowd of children and walk toward the square, Lucy's hand held tight in both of ours.


	2. Caught in the Hunter's Trap

As we enter the square the bright and blinding colors of the Capitol banners give me a headache. It sickens me that the Capitol treats the reapings as some sort of holiday. Right now they're probably having their cocktail parties as they bet on which tributes will win the games, solely based on which district we're from or if we break down when called. Of course, there are some adults in district five who bet on us, too, but they do it for the money they need to survive. The Capitol will be watching me now, watching my district as two of our own are picked to die. The whole thing is nauseating. Celebrating the death of twenty-three children is just… morbid.

We near the check-in tables and the crowd slowly condenses into single file lines. When Lucy sees the Peacekeepers taking blood, she sucks in a breath but keeps walking. I'm proud of her. To be honest, I expected her to run away, back to the house where Jared and Keneth are still getting the younger kids dressed.

Our turn comes to be checked-in, and though Lucy is shaking terribly she takes the finger-pricking without a whimper. One of the Peacekeepers points out a roped off twelve year old section for her and, with one last worried glance at me, she walks off. I watch her go with regret. There's a funny feeling in my chest that tells me to follow her, to give her one last hug before the reaping, but when the Peacekeepers take my blood they send me off to the seventeen year old section. It's obvious by the looks on their faces that they want me there _immediately._

I enter the roped off section and stand beside a group of gossiping girls. I recognize them from school, a few of the "popular" girls from the richer part of our district. Not wanting to be pulled into their gossip, I give them a terse nod and then turn away. When I meet the gaze of a few others around me I wish them good luck and great odds, then continue my scan of the crowd.

I see Charlee staring at me from the group of seventeen year old boys. I give him a quick smile and mouth "I love you" before my eyes turn to Lucy's age group.

The group of twelve year olds is huge this year. There must be at least one hundred of them. One hundred new names in the reaping, some of them appearing more than once. The chance of a twelve year old being reaped is high.

There's a sharp shriek from the microphone as it's turned on, and my head snaps to the stage.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the District Five Reaping for the 74th Annual Hunger Games!"

I look up at the overly-dressed man irritably as he speaks. His capitol accent is heavy and annoying, yet not as revolting as his appearance. From head to toe he is a sickly purple color, like a rotting plum. His shoes, suit, hair, and even his skin are an ugly purple tint. This is our district escort, Yonna.

Yonna has been our escort since I turned fifteen, replacing our old escort, Niana, after a terrible "accident". The rumor is that she had gone camping at one of the old Game arenas, the ones open to the capitol as historical sites, and fallen off a cliff. It took three days to find her, and by then it was too late to save her. Not many people in our district believe this though. My theory is that President Snow had her killed after she badmouthed the capitol for murdering both district five tributes in a grassfire during the 71st Hunger Games.

Yonna smiles a big, gaudily purple smile and continues with the traditional ramble about "our nation's rich history" and the "terrible revolution" that brought on the Hunger Games. By now I can quote the whole speech, word for word, so I barely pay attention. Instead, I scan the crowd for Lucy.

She's standing with the other twelve year olds, looking just as scared as the rest of them, if not more so. Even from across the square, I can tell she's shaking like a leaf. Her eyes are darting from side to side, obviously looking for me or her older brothers. I want to run and comfort her, but breaking from the small group of seventeen year olds would surely bring Peacekeepers upon me. I try meeting her gaze, but her restless eyes keep searching. She will _not _be reaped. I'm sure of it.

My gaze shifts to the right and I see Garret, standing in the middle of his age group. He stares straight ahead at Yonna, his face emotionless. How can he act so calm at a moment like this? I imagine his name being called in the reaping, how he would have no fear and walk to the stage with pride. But I know his resolve would soon fade in the arena. Garret is not a monster like the careers.

And Charlee. What if he gets reaped? My eyes return to where I saw him earlier in the crowd, and I can see he is staring at me as well. I can't bear the thought of his name being called. It makes me shudder and I shut my eyes, trying to shake the thought.

Abigail Finch.

I stand there for a moment, eyes closed and breathing heavily, trying to calm myself.

"Abigail Finch? Where are you dearie?"

A scream jerks me from my own head and my eyes snap open. I look up to see Yonna scanning the crowd, and the seventeen year olds around me are staring. Was that _my _name he just called?

"Abigail Finch? Surely you're here, sweetie." Yonna's voice sounds nervous and a bit embarrassed.

Yes. I am here. But I can't bring myself to move forward.

"Come on up dearie. We won't hurt you."

Won't hurt me? No. _You_ won't. You'll just send me to the Capitol so _they_ can prepare me for slaughter.

Dazed, I step from my group of peers and am immediately surrounded by Peacekeepers. As they escort me to the stage, I look through the crowd and find Jared. That face, that face that is always smiling, is now contorted into the most heartbreaking grimace I've ever seen. Keneth stands beside him, barely holding back tears. In his arms Bonnie screams, and Trishtan's face is buried in his side. I can hear Lucy crying out behind me and turn to see Garret holding her back. He must have caught her as she ran toward me, because they're both in the middle of the square, standing out from the rest. My breath catches in my throat when I see tears streaming down his cheeks. A movement flickers in the corner of my eye and I turn my head to see Charlee, running full force toward me and the Peacekeepers.

"Charlee! No!" I only just manage to spit out the words before a Peacekeeper pulls out a small box and points it at Charlee, causing him to fall on the ground in a series of jerks as electricity courses through his body. I scream and try to go to him, even though I know he's only just stunned, but a Peacekeeper catches my arm and jerks me back toward the stage.

Suddenly, everything doesn't seem real. My vision blurs and the sounds around me fade until the only thing I'm focused on is the first step on the stairway up to the stage. The first step to my death.

I'm pushed forcefully onto the stage and Yonna grabs me by the shoulders and stands me in front of the microphone. He smiles at me, waiting for me to say something.

What can I say? _Thanks for reaping me for the games_? _It's always been my dream to be murdered by the Capitol_? No. The Peacekeepers would not condone sarcasm.

Yonna realizes I won't be saying anything and moves to pick a boy's name from the giant glass ball.

"Eric Turrley!"

_Oh great. Let the games begin._


	3. A Fox's Worst Enemy is a Snake

Eric Turrley has hated me ever since we met on the day of my very first reaping.

He was a year older than me, already having experienced one reaping. I had been walking along with Jared, holding his hand tightly as we neared the square, when the boy knocked me over as he ran past. The wind was knocked right from me as I landed on my stomach. I didn't known what hit me, and with the stress of my first reaping already on my shoulders, I began to cry. Jared, being the overprotective brother he is, took me up in one arm and ran after the boy. When we caught up to him Jared grabbed his arm with his free hand and set me on my feet. He spun the boy around to look him in the eye.

Eric is a sturdy boy, not the biggest of the boys his age, but definitely bigger than me. Of course, I'm small for my age, not necessarily height-wise but in stature. However, on that day we met, he looked awful small standing under Jared.

I don't remember what Jared said that day; only that he was yelling and cursing profusely. He chewed out Eric good, and when he was done I received the most hateful stare I've ever seen on a person. Eric blamed me for his rudeness.

Every day after that when I ran into Eric, he stared at me as if he wanted to wrap his hands around my neck and choke me to death. Actually, I believe the only thing keeping him from doing so was Charlee being by my side.

Eric appears from the front of the eighteen year old group and mounts the stage in a matter of seconds, without any Peacekeeper's help, much faster than I had swallowed my fear and shown myself. As he takes his place beside me, he gives me that awful stare that gives me the impression he wants me dead. He might get his wish in the arena. I side-step away from him, ever so slightly, so as not to draw attention.

Mr. Lakebury, District five's Mayor, steps up to the podium set at the side of the stage and begins to read the Treaty of Treason. The document is read every year, in every district, as it is required. I imagine most everyone has it memorized by now, especially the people of the Capitol, who hear it twelve times in a row every year as they watch the reapings. But it must be read as a reminder, I suppose, to those who ignore it.

"So hereby declared by the President of Panem, a treaty between the districts and Capitol is written and signed. These terrible Dark Days in our history must be remembered and prevented from reoccurring. To remind us that rebellion must never be repeated, we give you the Hunger Games. This game of survival of the fittest will pit the districts against each other by requiring one boy and one girl from each district, between the ages of twelve and eighteen, to be provided for participation in the games. The twenty-four tributes will be put into an arena built by the Capitol and will be required to fight to the death, leaving only one victorious in the end. The death of the twenty-three other tributes will serve as a punishment for the rebellion and a reminder that the Capitol is in control. The victor of the games will receive all the fame and fortune he could ever imagine, and will live in the most prestige parts of his district in a place set aside only for victors. The district of the winner will also receive spoils and goods from the Capitol until the next Hunger Games. This will be a reminder to you that the Capitol can be merciful when Panem's citizens are cooperative. All districts will be required to watch the televised games and cheer on their tributes. The games must be treated as a festivity and a friendly competition between the districts. Lastly, if any district rebels against the Capitol again, they will be obliterated, just as District Thirteen was in the Dark Days. With the signing of this treaty and the following of its guidelines, Panem can become a more peaceful place, filled with harmony and equality among all the districts."

Harmony and equality? Such lies. The districts certainly do not live in harmony with the Capitol. We fear them. And equality is definitely a joke in the treaty. Every district knows that districts one, two, and four are the Capitol's pets. They get special treatment and riches from the Capitol, and they are even trained to kill so that they may volunteer for the games and win. We call them the Career districts for this reason. All of it is unfair.

When Mr. Lakebury finishes reading, he asks for us to shake hands. I turn to face Eric and offer my small palm to him. He hesitates for a moment, his stare like a knife in my chest, and then wraps his fingers around my hand. His grip is rock hard and his hand feels like it's made of stone. His locked fingers tighten around my hand and threaten to crush it as I give a firm shake. Then, seconds later, my hand is free again, dangling limply by my side. I squeeze it into a fist a few times, trying to get the blood circulating again.

The anthem of Panem begins to play, and we stand silent. When the song ends, Yonna smiles and steps forward, grabbing my wrist in his right hand and Eric's in the other. He then raises our arms, as if we are wrestlers who have just won a championship match.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of District five, your 74th Annual Hunger Games tributes!"

The crowd begins to cheer in a melancholy sort of way; I can tell it's only forced excitement, encouraged by the Peacekeepers to make the Capitol happy. As they continue to cheer Yonna leads us to the back of the stage, where we climb the marble steps that lead to the Justice Building. Behind us, a mob of Peacekeepers makes a human wall, keeping us from escape.

We enter the building through a huge pair of marble double doors, and once inside Eric and I are torn apart. Half of the Peacekeepers herd me to the left and down a brightly lit hallway, and the other half, along with Yonna, lead Eric the opposite way. I can't say I'm not happy to be away from him, though. The sooner I'm away from Eric's threatening stare, the better.

At the end of the hallway I am pushed into a large room and left alone. I can tell it's the Mayor's office by the piles and piles of paperwork sitting on a mahogany desk in the corner of the room. I pace back and forth for a while and let the tears that I held in during the reaping flow freely from my eyes. I will not cry in front of the cameras, in front of my family as they come to say goodbye. I have to be strong, for them.

By the time my first farewells come, my eyes have long been dried out. The door opens and Jared, Keneth, Trishtan, and Bonnie enter. The two little ones crawl into my lap and wrap their arms around me, quietly sniffling. Jared and Keneth watch me silently, holding in their feelings. This is the way my brothers grieve, the way they say goodbye. When the Peacekeepers come for them, Jared gives me a kiss on the forehead as he picks up Bonnie and Keneth gives me a brief hug. They leave without a single word.

I sit still for a long time, waiting for my next visitors and wishing that this was all just a dream.

I hear the Peacekeepers' five minute warning and turn to see Lucy and Garret enter the room. Lucy runs straight to me and buries her face in the folds of my green dress, sobbing uncontrollably. I unpin her bun, which has already started to mess up, and let her hair fall to her shoulders. I run my fingers through it as she cries, trying to memorize the softness of her hair and comfort her at the same time.

After a minute I take Lucy's face in my hands and pull her head from my lap. Our time together is ticking by fast, and I can't let her cry the whole time. I have to give her one last burst of hope, something to keep her going while I'm gone. Something she can remember me by when I never return.

I look into her eyes as she sniffles and stares back at me, tears running down her cheeks and falling onto my dress. She looks so small, so fragile as she clings to my legs and looks up at me with frightened eyes. I'm on the verge of crying again when the Peacekeepers warn us we only have two minutes left. I suck in a breath and wipe the tears from Lucy's eyes.

"Lucy, you have to be strong for me, ok? Everything is going to be alright. You have to help Garret take care of Trishtan and Bonnie now. Garret will teach everything I've taught him." Tears are forming in my eyes again, and I blink to flush them away.

Lucy isn't having any luck holding back her tears, however. She starts to cry again and tries to bury her face, but I hold her head firmly in my hands, forcing her to look at me. "Lucy, please. You have to be strong. You can't let my absence bring you down, you have to move on."

"No Abby!" The protest in her voice surprises me. "Don't talk like that! You are going to come back. You _have_ to!" Sobs wrack through her body and she shudders. "Please. Come back, for me."

I'm crying again, despite trying to mask my feelings. I pull Lucy into my lap and hold her close to me, burying my face in her hair as we grieve together.

I look up with blurry eyes and see Garret standing there, watching us as we cry. There are tears in his eyes too, and I reach out an arm to him. He wraps his arms around my neck and hugs me, silently, in his own way, telling me goodbye for the last time.

One of the Peacekeepers tells us our time is up, but no one moves. I hold onto them tight, not wanting to let go. Too soon, they're jerked from my arms and pulled to the door.

"Abby! No!" Lucy screams, fighting with all her strength to come back to me.

My voice catches in my throat as I answer her. "I'll win for you Lucy! I'll come back to you! I swear it on my life!" On the last word, my pitch rises and suddenly I'm screaming hysterically, sobbing uncontrollably, wanting my family back, wanting my life back.

And then they're gone.


	4. Abandoned Fox Pups

For the remainder of the hour I am alone. Charlee doesn't come; he must still be stunned by the Peacekeeper's box. I hope that he isn't left lying in the streets. No one else comes to visit me either, to say a final goodbye. I can't say I'm offended though. In fact, I'm grateful. If anyone were to walk through that door right now they would probably take a fist to the face. I feel like my emotions are so out of control. I'm sobbing and screaming, throwing insults at the doors and hoping the Peacekeepers outside can hear my profanities.

When they finally come in to collect me, I am huddled in the corner, my eyes shut from the pain of being drained dry. I hear my name and stand slowly, pushing up with my back against the wall, and follow them.

As we pass by a mirror in one of the hallways I look into it, hoping I don't look like I have been crying. I am relieved to see that the expression on my face is blank, unmoving and unemotional. Even though I feel awful on the inside, at least I don't show it.

We reach the end of the hall and turn right, taking a few steps before pushing through a small door. Bright sunlight blinds me and I wink against it.

In front of me is a small car. I only know its name because some of the Peacekeepers in my district own them; I have never personally ridden in one. It's a rusty red color with darker corroded spots on the doors and hood, and the windows are tinted black; the headlights are cracked and broken and the wheels are dangerously flat. Are they trying to kill us before we even leave the district?

Eric is already in the car, his own multitude of Peacekeepers surrounding it. I'm herded forward and the door opens to let me in. Mayor Lakebury is sitting in between Eric and me, as if he is a barrier to keep us from fighting.

No. We will save that for the arena.

The door is slammed shut behind me and the car splutters to life. The driver, a white haired man with teal eyes, slowly pulls a lever and presses the gas pedal, sending us sluggishly forward.

We haven't been moving for long, maybe fifteen minutes, before we stop again. The doors reopen and I step out into the bright sunlight again. When my eyes adjust, I gasp.

A semi-circle of new Peacekeepers make a human wall behind us, blocking us from escape… again. Everyone from my district is in front of me, lining a path that leads to a chrome-colored Capitol train. They don't make a sound; they just stand there with their eyes sympathetic. Even more alarming is the multitude of Capitol cameras dotted throughout the crowd, all trained on one thing: me.

Eric steps up beside me, not giving one glance in my direction. The cameras focus on us, and in the quiet I can almost hear the zoom of the lenses. Then I feel a finger jabbing into my back, and the wall of Peacekeepers pushes us toward the trains.

Once, when I was about eight, I was walking through the sparse woods at the edge of district 5. When I saw the electric fence that surrounds our district, I had turned around, only to find that I was being followed. A group of twelve year olds were behind me, blocking the path I'd tread through the trees. I had recognized them from watching the reaping on television; their best friend had been reaped that year. They were walking toward me with smirking, scary faces, and I'd had to walk backwards to keep my distance. Edging closer and closer to the shiny, live fence. They taunted me, threatening to rig the next reaping and have my name called. There was nowhere to run; the trees flanked my sides and the buzzing fence stood at my back, and there was no way I could break through the line of strong pre-teens. I was so afraid.

That is how I feel right now.

The walk to the train is agonizingly long. All I can think about is the zooming cameras. The silence. The boy walking beside me who wants to kill me. Who probably will kill me. Each and every painfully slow step…

And then we're standing there at the chrome doors as they slide open, inviting us in. We don't even have time to turn and say goodbye to our home before Yonna is there, grabbing our arms in his lavender colored fists and pulling us into the train.

The doors close behind us, leaving us in the dark. We are pulled down a black hallway and through a pair of double doors into what seems to be another train car. Yonna finally releases his death grip on us and flips a switch, flooding the room with bright white light.

Before me is probably the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. Yonna tells us about everything we see as I take it all in; Crystal chandeliers, leather sofas and chairs, mahogany tables. And the best part: a feast of all the foods I could ever imagine. I've never been a materialistic girl; living in the districts does that to you. But standing here, seeing all of these things I've never seen before, is magical.

Yonna leads us to the bounty of food, and when the strong smell hits my nose my mouth waters.

"You both must be _starving_!" Yonna exclaims, handing us each a cup of a hot substance he calls coffee. I take a sip and energy and warmth seems to rush through my body, all the way to my fingertips. I shiver with delight. We sit down at the table and Eric and I immediately grab handfuls of food, filling our plates and our mouths. Yonna sits there with a grin while he carefully folds a napkin into his lap; he seems happy to see us stuffing our faces. It's almost as if he feels like he has done us a favor by bringing us here.

As I stuff my mouth, I fill my pockets with some of the less perishable foods. It is instinct for me to do this; I will save this food to eat later. I find myself wishing that Lucy and my other siblings were here to enjoy this feast; It makes me feel rotten to eat this much when I know my family is hungry back at home.

We eat for about twenty minutes before we are interrupted. A young man and older-looking woman enter the train car, talking in hushed voices. They sit beside each other at the table and stare at us for a few minutes, seeming to size us up.

Finally, the man speaks. "Well, Rainey, seems like we have some pretty strong tributes this year."

The woman nods, still looking at us. "We can't be sure until we see them train."

The man reaches across the table to shake our hands and introduce himself. "Nialle Hendman, 31st annual Hunger Games Victor. And 'Miss Skeptical' over there is-"

"I can introduce myself just fine, thank you Nialle," the woman stands and reaches a strong hand toward us. "Rainelle Minesh. 23rd annual Hunger Games Victor."

"Nice to meet both of you," I reply politely, shaking both of their hands. "I'm Abigail Finch, and he's-"

"Eric Turrley," my rival finishes, giving me a cold stare. He shakes both of their hands as well then sits back down, continuing to stuff his cheeks.

Rainelle sits back down while Nialle grabs a tall bottle of red liquid from an ice box; he pours us each some in a strange cup he calls a 'wine glass' before he sits back down. I grab the glass in my hands and take a big sip, almost gagging at the taste of it.

Nialle laughs. "Careful. It's a little strong."

Rainelle rolls her eyes. "Well, if you two haven't realized yet, we are your district mentors. So, why don't we get down to business and teach you two how to survive, hm?"

* * *

I dream of my mother that night.

In my dream, I am running. I only know this from the burning in my legs because I am running in place. Every leap I take gets me nowhere. I can hear Jared, Keneth, and Garret behind me, breathing heavily as if they are running, too. But I can't turn my head to look back. My focus is on the four people in front of me, so close but so far away.

I see my mother sitting in a swing, holding a two month old Bonnie in her long arms. Beside her, Lucy and Trishtan sit on the ground, laughing and giggling. They, too, look younger. Happier. I feel my legs slowing as I watch them play, seemingly in no danger. The sound of my mother's voice floats to my ears; she is singing a familiar folk tale song, one that she used to sing to me every night before bed.

_In the grass a field mouse lurks_

_ Hiding from Mr. Fox._

_ He's hunting a meal for his wife and his pups_

_ And he's searching among the rocks._

_ But the mouse makes a simple mistake._

_ Mr. Fox shows his cunning and wit._

_ When the mouse makes a run for the factory gate,_

_ Mr. Fox gives a pounce_

_ And that's it._

When she says the word 'pounce', I see her playfully grab Lucy's shoulder, like she used to every time she got to that part of the song. I hear Lucy squeal and giggle as she turns to look at mother.

That giggle turns into a shrill scream, ringing in my ears.

Appearing behind them, almost out of thin air, is a giant monster-like creature. It is long and slender with black skin and dark grey, translucent wings that flutter a mile a minute. At one end it has blood red eyes, and at the other a long, spear-like stinger that tapers to a dangerously sharp point. A thunder-like, buzzing noise resonates through my ears, getting louder each moment.

A Tracker Jacker.

This is the beast that killed my mother.

She was stung by about sixty of them. The first five weeks were the worst, but the venom never left her system. It killed her slowly. _Painfully._

I can feel my legs moving again, but I am still not getting any closer. I watch helplessly as my mother turns and looks death in the face, her scream blending in with Lucy's. She thrusts Bonnie into my younger sister's arms and pushes the children away from her. Lucy grabs Trishtan's hand and they sprint toward me, screaming and crying. As they near me they plead with me to turn around and run from the beast, but I have my eyes locked on mother, wanting terribly to save her.

The Tracker Jacker bears down on her, its stinger gleaming with wet venom, and my vision blurs.

Suddenly I am in the district square, trembling and looking at the stage as a name is pulled. I remember this day. My first reaping. I search the crowd for my mother, knowing she is not there to assure me that everything will be alright. She had died earlier that month. I cannot find Jared either. The only person I see is Eric Turrley, staring at me with the hate that I instilled in him that day.

And then I'm at today's reaping, hearing my name called, hearing Bonnie's scream, seeing my sibling's tears, watching Charlee electrocuted in front of me, and falling apart on the inside with fear.

That night is the worst night of sleep I've ever had.


	5. Foxes Shouldn't Eat Berries

_Hi everyone! For those of you who read this story the first time I published it, I'm sorry it's been so long! My senior year of highschool was so busy, and so was my first semester of college. But now I have time off so I've re-edited this story to make it better! So please reread to catch the changes! For my new readers, if you've made it this far, I guess you really like the story so far! I would love love LOVE some reviews/follows/etc. if you like it so much! (A detailed review is what helped me to fix the mistakes I made the first time this story was published). Plus, reviews and follows will encourage me to finish the story, because this is the last chapter I have written and revised... for now. So if you want to know what else happened to Abigail Finch during the Hunger Games, please do these things for me! :)_

* * *

When I wake in the morning I am exhausted. The plush train mattress beneath me feels uncomfortable compared to my bed at home, and I stand quickly to rid myself of its alien touch. Instantly, the soreness in my limbs becomes obvious and I sink to the floor. I lift my sleeves and brush my fingertips against my forearms, sending little aches through my muscles. There are small circles of grey forming on my skin, the beginnings of bruises. I must have been thrashing around during the night in response to my nightmare.

My mother. I shiver and push the still vivid visions from my head, then dress and exit my sleeping quarters.

It's a fairly short walk to the dining car, but I drag it out, taking miniscule steps and thinking about yesterday's conversation with Rainelle and Nialle.

They had focused on the obvious aspects of the game; Sponsors, training, common mistakes that past tributes have made. I'd listened to every word, drawing the information in like a sponge. I will not allow myself to die from a stupid mistake.

The whole time Eric had been silent. Not asking questions or even acknowledging our mentors' tips. Only staring at me with that iconic anger in his eyes.

I quicken my pace and reach the dining car, hoping that he isn't there.

So much for hoping.

I open the door and see him sitting at the end of the long mahogany table; there is a large arrangement of breakfast foods covering most of the surface, including a mountainous pile on his plate. He looks up from his meal and when our eyes meet a shiver runs down my spine.

Pure hatred. You would think I had committed murder by walking in the room from the way he looks at me.

I slowly shut the door behind me and cross the room, taking a seat at the opposite end of the banquet and trying to avoid Eric's icy stare. I feel his eyes on me the whole time, stabbing into me like knives.

We eat in silence for several minutes before the door opens again and Rainelle, Nialle, and Yonna join us. Some of the tension in the air lifts as they sit down in the chairs between Eric and me.

"My, my, my. Someone is up bright and early," Yonna exclaims with an overly zealous grin. I cringe at his choice of color for the day. He has on a neon green body suit paired with light green accents, and even his skin is a sickly chartreuse. "Are we excited for a big day at the capitol?"

I flinch again at this question. I am most certainly _not _ready to see the capitol. Our arrival only means another step toward death. "The capitol?"

Yonna nods, keeping the giant grin on his face. "Yes, we're about forty minutes away from arriving."

A small groan escapes my lips, and Yonna's smile levels out.

The three newcomers begin filling their plate and chatting quietly while I sip my second cup of coffee and look around the dining car. Yesterday I was so busy eating that I hadn't paid much attention to my surroundings, and now I fully see the room for what it is. The walls are hung with rows of cabinets and shelves that, no doubt, hold the fine china of the capitol. To my left a long bar lines the side of the car and is covered in more food, as well as some of the red liquid that Nialle gave to me yesterday. My mouth waters at the sight, even though the plate in front of me is full. Thick loaves of bread are stacked high like pyramids on crystal platters; there are many varieties of soups steaming in glass bowls with silver ladles. The smell wafts to my nose and I take a deep breath of pleasure.

In the corner to my back right there is a long, black leathered couch in a right-angle shape, creating a squared off section of the car. Hanging on the wall above it is a very large television. Compared to the tiny box we have at home, this one is huge.

"So, how did you two win the games?"

I'm surprised to hear Eric speak. It's the first thing he has said other than his name. I'm also surprised that his tone does not carry its normal anger, but is more curious.

Nialle smiles like he has been waiting for us to ask. "Well, we can show you."

I begin to wonder what he means until he stands and walks over to the television, motioning for us to follow. I bring my coffee and a biscuit of bread with me and sit on the couch beside Nialle. Rainelle and Yonna take a seat on his other side, and Eric sits on the shorter end of the couch, farthest away from me.

Nialle grabs a small device and presses a button. The lights in the train car dim and the television screen flickers on, displaying the Capitol seal. He presses another button and a video begins to play.

The video starts by flickering pictures of tributes along with their age and the heading "31st Annual Hunger Games." The ninth picture to flash by is a fifteen year old Nialle. Seeing the old picture makes me realize that the man doesn't look as young as I thought. The dark haired boy with thick locks on the video now has thinner hair that is a lighter brown with grey flecks. He has grown a thick beard that is scruffy but clean cut, which is also light in color, and wrinkles crease his forehead slightly.

I turn back to the video to see the last few tributes flash by. The age ranges were close that year, with most of the tributes being fifteen. Footage from the arena begins to play, starting at the bloodbath. The landscape was icy and cold that year; it would have been a beautiful sight if the snow was not blood red. I tone out most of the chatter of the announcers, only paying real attention to the scenes that Nialle was in. I notice quickly that he did not get out of the games on luck. He actually did some killing. I cringe and squint my eyes as I see him launch a knife into an older girl's chest and she falls to the ground gasping. He was good with a knife. I wonder if he still is.

We reach the end of the games, with only Nialle and another male tribute named Gree left. I glance over and see Eric on the edge of his seat, as if he is enjoying watching these tributes' demise. I shudder and watch the screen as Nialle ambushes Gree from behind a rock, slicing his head clean off with a double edged sword then picking the severed head up by its tasseled hair and showing it to the camera. I force myself to hold back vomit when the screen goes black.

Eric claps, a sound that makes my stomach lurch again. How can he feel so proud of a killer?

Nialle grins at Eric, obviously proud of himself.

"My turn," Rainelle states, taking the remote from Nialle and clicking a couple buttons before the Capitol seal returns to the screen. I see new faces flash across the screen and a new title: "23rd Annual Hunger Games." This time the tenth picture is of Rainelle; I'm surprised to see the number twelve flash by her name. It's not common for a twelve year old to win the games; usually they are the first to die. In the picture she looks sweet and innocent, with blonde hair cut just below her chin and dimples on her cheeks. How did this little girl win the Hunger Games?

I glance at Rainelle, looking her over more thoroughly than I did before. Like Nialle, she looks very different from her twelve year old self. Her hair is completely grey and even shorter than it used to be, resting above her ears. The innocent look that she has in the picture is gone, replaced with a darkness in her sea-grey eyes. My guess is that the games changed her, some way.

The footage of the games start, and the first thing I see is Rainelle, sprinting away from the Cornucopia at surprising speed. That is probably the smartest move. A twelve year old would definitely die in the bloodbath of the violent Cornucopia scrabble. As the footage continues I see that most of the time she is running, only stopping to eat meager rations and sleep. The landscape that year was hilly, with no cover but a few rocks and bushes and caves at the foot of the mountains surrounding the valley. Many tributes die within the first forty-eight hours, leaving only Rainelle and six other tributes. The six others, an alliance, pick each other off one by one, until a sixteen year old girl named Harriet is left alive but terribly wounded. Rainelle finds her, and the girl begs to be put out of her misery. I watch the screen as the twelve year old takes a couple of ebony-black berries from her pocket and feed them to the girl.

"Nightlock," I hear our female mentor say as she watches the screen too.

Harriet swallows the berries and almost immediately her eyes bulge and her labored breathing stops. A cannon is heard in the distance and the Capitol anthem plays, then the screen fades to black.

No applause from Eric this time, which comes as no surprise to me. Rainelle only killed one person, and not in any violent way at all.

I kind of respect her for that. I can only hope that I won't have to kill anyone in the arena.

"The berries," I begin, curious. "You said they we're called Nightlock?"

Rainelle nods and glances back at the screen as if the deadly berries will appear again. "The minute you swallow even one of those berries you're a goner. Every arena tends to have some, and every year at least one tribute makes the mistake of eating them. If I were you, I'd stay away from berries all together."

Rainelle then turns to Nialle and they begin whispering in hushed voices, concern in their eyes. I try to listen in but cannot pick up their words, so instead I wait for them to speak again.

After a few more moments they turn their eyes to Eric and me, seeming to search for the right words. I watch them and listen intently.

"In past games," Rainelle begins, "We have found that our tributes tend to train better when they have one mentor."

I nod. Rainelle and Nialle seem to have clashing personalities that could get in the way when mentoring one tribute.

"And because there are two of us," Nialle continues slowly, dragging it out, "We need you two to decide which one of us will be your mentor."

The room is quiet for a moment, and then Eric and I answer simultaneously.

"Nialle."

Eric's head jerks toward me and his eyes smolder in fury. "You can't have Nialle," he says, staring me down.

I'm beginning to get tired of Eric's hatred toward me, and I can feel the anger building up. "No," I snap back. "_You_ can't have Nialle."

I don't even have time to process what is happening when Eric lashes from his chair, hands extended toward me. I barely have time to slip from his grasp and jump over the back of the couch, landing softly on my feet and turning to face my enemy.

Nialle and Rainelle have grabbed him, trying to hold him back, but his strength is too much and he breaks away, running toward me. I crouch low and at the last moment roll away, evading him once again. I stifle a laugh as he looks around as if I've disappeared from his hands. Nialle and Rainelle are holding back laughs as well, while Yonna watches, horrified.

Eric turns toward me again, and seeming to realize I'll only keep eluding him, he grabs one of the crystal platters from the bar beside him and launches it at me. It barely clears my head before it crashes into the wall behind me and shatters into a million pieces. I cover my face, hoping none of the shards bounce back and pierce my skin.

Terrible mistake. Eric was not done with me.

Suddenly I'm yanked to my feet and strong hands encircle my throat, cutting off my air supply. I cough, trying to suck in air but having no luck. I use what saliva is left in my drying mouth to spit in Eric's face; this only makes him angrier and he pushes me to the ground, hands still at my neck. I use my nails to claw at his face and arms, trying every way I can to get him off of me while Rainelle and Nialle try pulling him away. He's pushing me into the ground as he chokes me, ever so close to the crystal shards.

There's a sudden shouting of new voices on the train, the blur of white uniforms as they rush over and pry me and Eric apart.

Then I black out.


End file.
